Lackadaisical
by fiftychemicalsofromance
Summary: Set pre-series in an AU where they're human, Atlas is alive and Lackadaisy is thriving. He and Mitzi are newlyweds, Mordecai has been hired, and brought with him some unprecedented complications by the name of Asa Sweet. Who's this Selekov chick and why is she so damn irritating? It'll be slash eventually, probably, unless I change my mind. It'll live up to its rating eventually.
1. Chapter 1

[[So this story is something I decided would be fun to post on here. Just in case you missed the summary, It's going to eventually be Viktor/Mordecai, then even more eventually Viktor/Mordecai/OC which I will do my best to portray as well as it looks in my head. To be clear Mordecai is going to like Viktor a lot sooner than is going to be vice versa. No hate please.

Miss Butler, if you read this than I'm really sorry please don't hate me too much if you read the whole thing because your characters are being mutilated I'm so sorry.]]

Chapter One

Sexual desire was honestly something that Mordecai would have preferred to never experience. It was difficult, in any event, to think of it as anything other than a menial chore or another job without some degree of panic.

He had a specific skill set, that was what Atlas had said, and yet...he was fairly certain Atlas had no idea exactly what that skill set included. It was true, no matter how violently he had staunched the rumors, that when he was younger he had been desperate for money for his siblings.

It was normal; at least, that was what the books on the topic had said. People who went through sexual trauma as children often avoided encounters in the future. Problems with personal space (close proximity) were common, as was a sensitivity to situations.

Viktor, to his credit, had figured out more or less what was the matter (or at least that his being too close made the other antsy). He had been unhappy when Atlas had partnered them up, what with the younger man's (diminutive) stature. He never made conversation with anyone, or listened to anyone other than Ivy, but he guessed Mordecai might just know he disliked him.

Privately, he collected information on the other. He knew that he had been young when he got involved in the shadier side of things, and he knew what that sometimes entailed.

Out of a mutually respected but unvoiced agreement he didn't ask about his earlier days so long as Mordecai stayed out of his life before the war. He could guess, with a degree of surety, that there was a reason why his companion jumped when people appeared unexpectedly or got too close.

The awkward silences turned to companionable ones and eventually, there was conversation. Nothing too serious, often sarcastic insults that neither really meant, then more personal things. Stil, neither of them broke that unspoken agreement.

Not until Mordecai's curiosity got the best of him and he stole a peak at a down turned photo on Viktor's dresser.

"Who is she?" He had asked before thinking. The woman in the picture was lovely, all soft curls and gentle, caring eyes. She was thin, almost sickly, but she smiled at the person taking the picture as though they defined her world and there could be nothing better.

"Put it down. Naow." He growled, the other obeying, if a bit hesitantly. "She vas...friend of mine. Before var happened."

"A friend? Not a lover?"

"Eh, is hard to tell. Name is Jana. She had girlfriend, but ve married for two year before she die." He seemed to think on his next words, contemplating whether or not he would say them. Mordecai didn't speak for a moment before his curiosity got the best of him.

"You mean she was... Queer? She loved another woman?"

He nodded.

"You never thought it was unnatural?" His voice raised in pitch subtly, surprised. The older man sighed.

"No, she vas my...best friend? Is vat Ivy say? She always know she vas different, I know too. Changes nothing for me. Her family vas, ah, harsh. They make her leave, shame her, she kill herself after girlfriend runs avay. Her girlfriend come back hurt, join enemy dressed as boy to fight in var. Men, they find out, kill her. Hurt her worse before."

"Oh." He looked downward, the words weighing more heavily than he liked them to.

"Vat about you?"

"Me?" He looked up, raising an eyebrow. "What about me?"

"Alvays, you are afraid to be touched. Vill not shake hand even, not get too close. Vhy?"

He didn't answer for what felt like several minutes. "I... I can't..."

"You start young, àno? Some men, they hurt you."

He flinched, stepping back unintentionally. "I, yes."

He nodded. "I vill tell no one."

"Thank you."

"Is not...is not your fault. You know this?"

He laughed, rather bitterly. "Oh, isn't it? Still, it's of no matter. It will not happen again."

Viktor nodded, going back to rummaging in the kitchen for something to eat. The conversation was left as it was as they fell into their usual companionable silence.

-

Viktor never asked him about the earlier years of his career, but tolerated questions about the lovely girl in the picture and other things that related to her.

"Why did her lover run away if they were in love?" He asked one day, while they were waiting for their target to show up at the train station. "And why did she marry you?"

"Her name vas Ishtar and her father, he drinks, alvays yell and hit. One day, he hit too hard and she left for almost year. She send letter every day that Jana never read. Jana, her family almost find out, ve get married to protect her. Vas two year before Ishtar ran avay."

He frowned, the brim of his hat shrouding his eyes for a moment in its shadow. Viktor was quiet, possibly thinking about the others reaction but probably thinking about Jana.

He almost spoke, but was saved by the appearance of the man in question. They moved quickly, back into their smooth and practiced routine of their job.

It made more sense than anything else, Mordecai thought as they were dumping bodies in a privately rented incinerator. Killing was simple, easier than anything to pull the trigger and end a life. He wondered candidly if it made him a monster, this lack of empathy.

Sometimes there were familiar faces, people he had worked for at a younger age. He killed them all the same, reveling quietly in the reversal of roles as they begged him for mercy and he gave no quarter.

-

They got closer over time, the two of them did, figuratively an literally as they began to trust each other more. There was more odd fondness, the occasional spark of affection, even quaint arguments that some (Ivy and Rocky for the most part) said sounded like the squabbling of an old and ornery couple. There were times that Mordecai found himself looking at the other curiously, when he was certain he wouldn't look back. If Viktor noticed, he never said a word.

It was odd, he thought, that after knowing someone for a meager six months he could already trust him. Even odder was the way that Viktor seemed untroubled by his faith in the other. Then again, if it was anyone else he might have already killed them and claimed it was a casualty of a fight gone wrong.

Good coworkers were hard to find, though, so he made that his excuse. Loyalty set in on him like a disease of some sort, pricking his temper when someone spoke ill of the other and pulling panic to the surface when he lost sight of him during a job. It bothered him less and less, a fact that was rather maddening when he had he chance to think about it.

And then, when he thought things couldn't be any stranger, there was the night that Mordecai came to refer to in his head as the Beginning of the End.

Mitzi could be stubborn about fun, this much he knew. Still, it had never irked him as much as it had when she sat a drink down in front of him and ordered him to drink it. If it hasn't been for her husband looking on indulgently, he might have tossed it back at her.

It was bitter, burning him on its way down his throat. He shuddered, trying to drink down the tall glass as the room grew fuzzier and fuzzier. Viktor reached over to try to steady him as the dropped the glass.

There wasn't too much he remembered, he had said some kind of odd things about his coworker but it paled in comparison next to the way he had curled into his lap and of all things had fallen asleep with a curiously contented smile.

He remembered being carried to the car and set down in the backseat. He remembered being brought inside Viktor's apartment and he remembered being set carefully on the bed. More than any of that, he remembered the tone of the soft words Viktor had murmured before going to sleep in one of the chairs in the living room and how he had never wanted someone close to him so badly.

There was a stirring beyond friendly loyalty, a want he hadn't felt in years that urged him to go to the man who had been so oddly understanding and repay him in any way he could.

He thought about having him in the bed, the heat he would give and the way it would feel to be bent around him, completely at his mercy. The way it would hurt, just enough to make it feel real, and how gentle he was sure the other would be, how...loving.

This was what he thought about in the moments before he fell asleep, too drunk to properly berate himself for thinking of such a thing, and what he saw in a dream that made him begrudge the next morning for its untimely appearance.

He would tell himself afterwards that it was absurd to be attracted to Viktor, and write it off as a booze and celibacy induced temporary loss of sanity. He would remind himself firmly that no one could be trusted, and he would do his best to forget about it


	2. Chapter 2

[[TRIGGER WARNING FOR SEXUAL ASSAULT AFTERMATH]]

Chapter Two

A few weeks had passed very eventfully before there was any real change. Viktor knew, as he always seemed to, that there would be a change between the two of them some time in the near future-he wasn't wrong.

Asa Sweet, a former friend of Atlas's, had decided to take a bit too much of the pie himself and start up his own establishment. He wanted for men, needed men, runners and book keepers alike. This was why, when Mordecai turned up missing, there was something of an uproar. Since it was clear that he hadn't left on his own accord- what with the mess back at his often meticulously kept home- there was a mad scramble to find the hideout of their newest rival to look for their lost employee.

Viktor was worried. He was fairly certain that, from the times he had spoken to the man, it could be noted that he was definitely the type to take advantage of a younger boy who was desperate for money. If Mordecai had been a bit jumpy around other people he was downright skittish around him and the Slovak had a good guess as to why.

-

Mordecai was dreaming. Light flooded through the familiar window in the bedroom of Viktor's small apartment, warming the two of them where they lay twined together under the blankets.

He sighed happily when the other shifted to press his face into his neck and murmur something soft-sounding before waking up enough to say a sleepy good morning in his native language.

"Good morning to you too." He stretched out carefully before rolling over to kiss Viktor happily. He debated getting up to do something so domestic as make breakfast, but decided to forgo it in favor if a few more minutes of peace. He closed his eyes again, hiding his face in his lover's chest.

When he opened his eyes, he was back in the room Asa and his lot had thrown him into. It was small, only a bed and a toilet in the corner. He entertained the notion if hanging himself on the bed. When he climbed down to look it was apparent such a thing would be possible if he was so inclined. Still, he very much hoped that it wouldn't come to that, just like he hoped to be captured for some other reason than the scenario racing through his head.

The door opened. He moved quickly to stand on the other side of the bed, on the defensive.

"You're a hard man to catch, Mr. Heller." Asa's jovial voice sounded through the small space. "You killed my best gunman, you know. I'd say that means you owe me something."

He flinched. "So long as what you ask for is within the bounds of propriety, how can I refuse? It's only proper, after all, for a gentleman to repay his debts."

Asa's eyes narrowed. "Funny, kid. i remember you as plenty of things, none of them come close to gentleman. Get on your knees, would you?"

"You'll have to break them out from under me." He growled, the very picture of defiance. "Go find yourself a wife who'll want money badly enough that she'll pretend to enjoy your appearance."

"How about you, Hm? You're a whore at least, though you're hardly money-grubbing and I definitely wouldn't marry you."

"I'm a trigger man."

"Not always."

He glared at Asa, tense. The bigger man shrugged, starting to leave.

"Well, it wont be any fun if you're fighting me every step of the way. I figure you'll change you mind when you start wanting food." He said in parting, only the way he slammed the door giving away his anger.

A month passed, according to the tally marks on the wall and the hit of light that came from the thin window near the ceiling, and Mordecai was trapped still. Asa got braver as the days continued, getting closer every day but never touching him more than a little bit before withdrawing for fear of loss of life and limb.

There were others, stronger men, who came to solicit and most of the time he found himself powerless against them. He was a good trigger man, strong and capable, but three against one when you're the one and you're pitifully outgunned, well, the results weren't pleasant. He found that thinking about it too long gave him the urge to try and upend the bed to hang himself in earnest.

He dreamt again.

Asa reappeared the day he drugged the food that was shoved into the little prison.

It had been odd, really. His vision was so blurred he had to close his eyes, lay down on the floor. Asa stalked in triumphantly, grabbing the younger man by the hair and dragging him to the bed. He pushed him down, smirking at the sight but pausing at the sound of gunfire.

Asa said something loud and unintelligible before running out of the room, perhaps to investigate. There was more gunfire and Mordecai found himself hoping the man had been shot.

He tried to stand, only to find himself unable to do so for whatever drug was coursing through his system. His eyes closed again, but this time he did not dream. He woke only when some far bigger than him scooped him up off the bed, and even then it was only for a moment.

It was seldom that Viktor allowed himself become truly angry, but at the moment he was seeing red. He held Mordecai carefully, mindful of possible injuries. He had a few broken ribs, that was certain, and while he didn't think anything else was broken he was fairly certain that there were plenty of bruises.

Save a few that had escaped, Asa included, the hideout was little more than a mass grave. He set fire to it on the way out, finding out later that it had, in fact, burned to the ground with minimal survivors.

Mordecai was completely unconscious still when they got back to the Little Daisy. He walked through the door carefully, feeling him start to regain conscience. Ivy and Mitzi were the only ones there, and they froze when they saw Viktor and the smaller man in his arms.

"You found him!" Ivy yelled jubilantly, rushing over. Mordecai tucked himself into the other's chest uncertainly. "Where was he? Was it really Asa? What-?"

"Deivka, please to be calm. Is hurt, and scared. Vhy dont you call doctor?"

"He isn't going to kill him, is he? Because I get the feeling that would cost extra."

"He not killed him? Just scared. He calm down soon." He shifted, holding the man much more protectively than he felt was normal, especially because they were in no danger. Ivy gave them a quick, curious look but bolted away to the telephone.

"What's the damage?" Mitzi asked, watching the two of them from behind the counter.

"Broken ribs, at least. I think maybe he not let us look. Scared."

"The second half was more the answer to that than anything." She sighed, walking over to them carefully. "Mordecai, honey, what happened to you?"

There was no answer. She sighed again. "You're gonna have to tell the doctor soon anyway. You might as well tell us now."

He gave no answer.

"Please, dear? We can't help you if we don't know what's the matter."

"Mitzi, is drugged."

"With what?!"

"He looks like the girl in my dorm did- you know, the one that was missing. Somebody left her in front of the school, drugged. They said that someone had taken advantage of her." Ivy had materialized in the doorway. "And, Dr. Quakenbush is on his way. Where was he?"

"An establishment near the river, dear. I doubt that was their intention. Mordecai's a fighter, you know, I'm certain it was only convenience..." She looked to Viktor for reassurance, but found none. "I hope that's what it was..."

"Deivka, go to tell Mr. May Mordecai is back."

"But-"

"Go, naow." His voice sharpened, enough to warn her against arguing back. She huffed, stalking her way out of the room again.

"He was drugged for the same reason that poor girl was, wasn't he?"

"Vas locked in room with bed, like property." His voice lowered into a growl unintentionally. Mordecai stirred, diverting the man's attention quickly. He forced himself to calm down a bit, the red receding from the edges of his gaze. "Clothing is torn, buttons missing."

She nodded, sitting down defeatedly on a barstool. "Goodness. This changes things. What will we tell the doctor?"

"What will you tell me about what?" The comically small man spoke up from behind them. "My apologies, your door was unlocked. I'm going to guess that the boy is my patient?"

"Yes, that's correct." Mitzi smiled in her personable way. "I haven't the cash-"

"No need. The young lady said it looked like sexual assault." Viktor let out what almost passed as a growl, making the doctor step back a moment before he decided there was no danger.

Mitzi frowned. "I'm afraid I don't understand..."

"There's no charge for my helping someone who's gone through that." He gave Mordecai a rather gentle look, then turned his gaze to the man holding him.

Something in his eyes eased Viktor's anger, letting him set the young man down and step back just enough to give the doctor ample working room.

"She's right, the way his clothes are torn is unnerving." He opened Mordecai's mouth carefully, using a small light to take a look. "No irritation in the throat. That's a good sign...Viktor, can you help me get his shirt off?"

He nodded, undoing the few remaining buttons and easing it open. His tie, jacket, and vest were all missing, something Viktor noted rather worriedly. There was no way he would have gone without the articles willingly.

His chest was smattered with bruises, a few of which were distinctly hand-shaped, a handful of hickeys clustered around his collarbone. A dark bite mark manifested itself when his shoulder was exposed, the skin broken in the center where the teeth would have pressed. The doctor shook his head sadly.

"Poor boy. What is he, nineteen?"

"Tventy-three."

"That isn't much better. We'll wait until he's awake to do anything else."

The Slovak agreed with the decision silently. Mordecai, he knew, wouldn't take kindly to his privacy being invaded so throughly at all.

Upon waking, he refused further examination. Only under duress from Mitzi and Ivy combined did he allow the doctor to wrap his two confirmed broken ribs. When offered a drink to help with the pain he took it eagerly and downed it in a few swallows. His hand shook slightly, the only physical betrayal of his unbalanced state.

When Mitzi offered him a place to stay, he took her up on the offer. They already knew where his house was, after all, and it was only a matter of time before the survivors dredged up enough people to exact some revenge


End file.
